The Sarcastic Ballerina
by Call it Maglc
Summary: Erik tries to avoid the girl whom he must now take care of in gratitude to now deceased Antoinette Giry, but one chat with the Sarcastic Ballerina can change people's point of view. Cute hinted at Erik/Meg oneshot. I own nothing but my ideas!


_**The Good News: I'M NOT DEAD! Look, here's my story to prove it! Sorry I've taken a break for so long, had a bit of writer's block (and possibly still do...) But anyhow, here is some Erik/Meg cuteness for you! ^_^**_

_**The Bad News: Once again with the writers block. I've been brainstorming some ideas, but none really seem to be good enough to post/write. So I've resorted to reading y little heart out. I think I'm going to take a mini-vacation until at least April, just to clear my mind and think up something CRAZY good. ;)**_

_**So this is probably going to be my last story for a while. I've been slowly working on it for a few days. It's kinda silly, and not much romance this time (Awwwww...) But hopefully this entertains you! :)**_

* * *

**_The Sarcastic Ballerina_**

* * *

It was the week after Antoinette Giry died and willed that Meg be in my care, at least until she was to be married. Antoinette had stated in her written will which little Meg Giry had given to me to look at in disbelief, was that at her time of death, if Meg was not married yet or able to support her own self, she was to be in my care. I was revolted at the thought that the Madame would wish for anyone, especially her own flesh and blood, to expect to live down here with I. But nonetheless, Meg had packed up her small bit of belongings and made herself right at home without a shed tear.

She was a very curious girl, if girl is the appropriate word for her. The years had changed how she had looked, but she honestly had the curiosity of a child of seven. Whenever I looked from outside my room, there was always her, snooping about my lair. She had already almost set fire to a curtain, before I caught the candle in time. She had showered me with her apologies, but I had not spoken another word on that subject. I wondered if she was purposefully attracting attention to herself.

I had always thought of Meg to be a shy girl, who would politely sit in the background, letting her good friend Christine take the spotlight. Christine had deserved the spotlight, of course, with her unearthly beauty, angelic voice, and her overall way of going through life. Was I ever wrong, Meg was bubbly, full of questions and curiosity. I willed that sometime soon she would grow mute from so much talking. She was a dancer, after all, and not a singer.

It wasn't that I loathed the girl, but it has been a little over a year since Christine Daae left the Opera House, and my life, taking my heart with her. Anyone would think that a year's time could heal me, but with each day, the ache for her grew. On another note, the Opera House had been in reconstruction ever since the Spring of last year. The city council of Paris decided that rebuilding it would be worth it, and the construction ended a few days ago, as I'd overheard some of the men above ground saying. The grand reopening was to be due in three months, enough time to throw together a production out of whoever showed up as a volunteer. My plan was that I would send Meg up to the Opera, they would put her in the role of Prima Ballerina, and some rich Duke or Emperor would fancy her. They would be married and Meg would leave, leaving me alone once more.

And she was always hungry. I would not have thought a girl of seventeen could eat so often like a ravenous animal. Meg was an overall surprise and pain to deal with, so I mostly locked myself up into my own portion of my lair, a little room where there was a small piano, less grand than the organ outside my room. But even I had eat once in a while, although ever since my beloved Christine left, I have trained myself to eat less and less, to survive on just a slice of bread a day, and a bit of water.

It was one day when I had sneaked out of my room, making sure that the curious and always-questioning Meg was nowhere in sight. I reached the small kitchen that only contained a few pieces of furniture, and peered around to make sure that the curious blonde was nowhere in sight. With the coast clear, I grabbed a slice from the loaf of bread that she had baked a few days ago. Although she seemed to be good at nearly nothing but dancing, she was indeed a magician when it came to baking or cooking. Something that seemed to come naturally to all women, I guessed.

I turned back around to retreat into my room when the small woman popped in from around the counter, grinning. I was startled and nearly dropped my food. She giggled at what I assumed was my surprised expression and stood up from her knees, supposing she was crawling across the floor. "Aha, so you've finally come out from your little retreat from the world, monsieur?" I frowned.

"Just for a bit of food. Now if you please I shall like to return," I mumbled. I tried walking past her, but she blocked my exit with her arm. Although I could have easily fought against her, I just glared at her.

"Oh no, you don't! If YOU please, monsieur, I should fancy someone to talk to for a bit. What, do you think a girl of seventeen likes to be cooped up with nothing to do?" She said, grabbing my free arm and dragging me over to my grand organ. In truth, I did not resist only due to shock, that this girl had touched my arm and had not run off screaming from it's cold touch.

"Talk?" I repeated. She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, monsieur, talk. It's what us people do up in the land of the living which you seem to never have any interest in. If I am to live here until a suitor comes around to take me away, shall we not at least get to know each other?" Meg stated, letting go of my arm and going to fetch a small stool for herself to sit on. "Sit," She commanded, and I sat on the bench.

"Good, now tell me, what is your name?" She said, folding her hands in a neat pile and placing them in her lap. I blinked.

"My name?"

She sighed. "No, I want to know how many peacocks reside in the land of Asia, since that is clearly what I said. My God, of COURSE your name! Did I not say that?"

I frowned. "I did not ask for sarcasm."

She scoffed. "You did not ask for anything! I'm here because my mother, may she rest in peace, willed me to. If you did not feel so obliged to my mother, you would never have had any interest in a simple plain chorus girl. But I beg you, what is your name?"

I thought for a few moments before I answered. No one had ever asked me for my name, not even Christine. Christine... I must put her out of my mind, she is an unhealthy addiction I must overcome. "Erik," I said slowly. "But no one has called me that since... well, since your own mother."

"Well, then let's break that span of absence then, Erik. Really, saying Monsieur every time I was addressing you was much too formal, and the title of Phantom is false, for you are not a ghost. On the contrary you are very much human," She commented. "A foolish nickname made up by the ballerinas, that's all it was."

I raised an eyebrow. "You talk to me as though you are talking to anyone else, why?" She smiled.

"What, did you expect to be special? I'm sorry if I made you feel common," She grinned mischievously.

"You know that's not what I meant, little Meg," I growled. This girl was the most annoying person to talk to, but she was talking to me when no one else would, so I stayed. She shrugged.

"I can personally not see why you are so feared. My father was a doctor, I assume you know. He would often describe things much worse than your deformity, and the torn, broken, and haunting faces would often haunt me. From what I saw during _Don Juan Triumphant, _your face is by far less gruesome than those faces I dreamt up. You can say that I might have been the author of horror tales if I was not dancing," She said, staring back to the organ.

"You are brave. Foolish, but brave," I said back. She lifted her head up eyes sparkling.

"Foolish how?" She asked. "I did not come to live here on my own free will, it was my mother's. Though, I do not mind it here. It isn't the worst place to be, and once the Opera house is done rebuilding, then I can once again be in the shows."

"Not because of living here, but because of speaking lies."

"Lies!" She said, taken aback. "If there is one thing I have spoken today it is surely not a lie! Name me one thing, if you please, Monsieur Erik!"

"Gladly. You claim that my face is not gruesome enough to be cringe-worthy, when in the cold hard reality, there is nothing more horrible and vile as this," I mumbled, hoping she might be silent, thinking, but it was a mistake.

"I spoke nothing but the truth, and to prove it, remove your mask," She said plainly, crossing her arms.

"Remove my mask?" I hissed. "You are asking for your own demise, asking for that."

"Oh please, it's not like I havn't seen you before like that. Why, I gave you your mask back, do you not remember? It was when I first came back here, right after my poor mother had passed on," She argued, arms still folded across her chest.

"You are stubborn as an ox!" I proclaimed, staring intently at her. She narrowed her eyes.

"Fine. Then I'll just remove it myself!" She said and lunged for my face. But even though the sly ballerina was quick, I was quicker, and slapped her face away. She let out a little shriek and sunk down beside the stool she was sitting on. I was furious at her rash actions, she had almost seen my face! I stood above her, raising my voice.

"You will NEVER try anything like that again!" I roared. "You do not touch my mask, that's final! I don't have to keep you here, I only do for the sake of your mother! If I wished I could kill-" But before I could finish, Meg stood up beside me, one side of her face red from my slap, and her eyes blazing with anger. She grit her teeth and with one fluid motion, slapped me back.

Weather it was due to shock or to the sudden flash of pain, I lost my balance and had to cling to my grand organ to keep from falling down. I looked up to Meg, but not with as much anger as shock. She was standing above me, breathing loudly.

"My God! I'm just trying to help you! What, did my mother never teach you how to properly treat a lady? A slap! I try and help you, and what do I receive? A hate-filled slap! Maybe it's not the ladylike way to be so straightforward and try to settle for a nice talk, or to slap back when being slapped! Do you wish to spend the rest of your existence being a lonely person, lost in their own world of sorrow?" She yelled with vigor into my face. I was silent, and just stared up at her, at loss for words.

"And... and here I am, trying to make things better. To try... to try and show you that not everyone in this world is cruel, and villainous!" She kept on talking, but her voice was cracking. "I've been so alone, ever since my mother died. This whole week has been a living hell for me, and... and I've tried so... so hard to not cry. I'm trying to be... s-strong. But..." Meg suddenly burst into tears, collapsing to the floor. I stared, not sure what to do.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, with the only sound being Meg's resounding sobs throughout the chamber. The poor crying girl on the floor reminded me of her, of Christine. When she was crying for Raoul's life. It brought a pain to my heart, to think of Christine when little Meg was on the floor sobbing. Hesitantly, I brought my hand up and placed it on the blonde's shoulder. In a flash, she had picked herself up from the floor and flung herself into my arms.

I stood there, completely and utterly frozen, my hands in the air with surprise. Meg was hugging me tightly, and sobbing into my chest. What was I supposed to do? I had never had a woman begin to cry and cling onto me before. Slowly and cautiously, I brought my hands down and placed them across the girl's back, as it seemed the natural place to place them.

After a bit, Meg sighed and pulled out of her hug, wiping her face and turning around. "I-I'm dreadfully sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I beg your pardon, you can go back to your room, if you please. I will not disturb you again," She said with embarrassment.

"It's... not completely your fault," I said slowly. "You have lost everything in a matter of a few weeks. I can understand." Meg turned around, her face still red, but looking more under control.

"Yes, it is quite hard to be in this position, isn't it?" She sighed. "You know how it feels to loose everything that is dear to you, and I'm lucky that you have a bit of compassion for me. I should be punished for such childish behavior. I'm sorry I hit you." She cracked a small smile.

"I believe I deserved it," I mumbled and she grinned larger.

"And... I'm sorry for clinging to you like a helpless child," She blushed. I opened my mouth to say something, but upon second though, saying I didn't mind it would be a false statement. There was only dear Christine in my eyes. _But you didn't object to Meg's touch_, a voice cackled inside me. I tried to silence it.

"It is fine, you were merely in a state of hysterics," I finally decided on. "Now, if you may excuse me, Meg, I believe you need rest." She looked up questioningly.

"Rest? Is something happening?" She asked with complete curiosity, her emerald eyes gleaming.

"Yes, tomorrow is the first of March," I said, recalling. Her eyes got big.

"My goodness, it'll be the first of March already?" She breathed. "That's the re-opening of the Opera House, non?"

"Not the reopening, more like auditions for the grand reopening," I corrected. She nodded, everything slowly coming back.

"Then I must, as you say, get my rest. Thank you, Monsieur Erik," She said, beginning to walk off, then turned back to me. "It... it is okay if I call you by your name?" She asked.

I nodded. "Yes, you may call me Erik." _Christine wouldn't call you Erik. She didn't even care, she never asked_. The voice laughed once more. I tried to put it to the back of my head. Meg grinned and ran off to her room, slamming the door behind. There was nothing I could do but pick up the piece of bread I had originally came for and retreat into my own room.

I gently closed the door and leaned against the wall, and as I slowly devoured the slice, I thought. Tomorrow I should finally be rid of the annoying girl, all her loud-spoken questions and unteachable personality. She should dance like a star, she would beautifully shine. Some rich Duke would fall in love with her at first sight, for how could he not fall in love with such a beauty? I would be rid of her, and she wouldn't look back, happy as a Duchess the rest of her life

_Then why is she a popular topic on your mind? _Hissed the taunting voice. Was it really worth arguing back with a disembodied voice? It was my own brain, after all, and I should have my own power over it. So I decided to ignore it.

What if they wouldn't accept Meg back into the Opera? I had never really seen her dance, I thought guiltily. My eyes were only on Christine so long ago. She must have been at least a little bit professional, her mother used to be the ballet instructor, after all. If Meg did not get the lead role, I would send a note regarding her placement in the lead.

_That's risky_, The voice piped up. _Doesn't everyone think you're dead? That would just expose you. And who are you to put Meg in the lead? Why do you care?_

"I'm doing this for my own selfish reasons," I hissed. "Meg would no longer be my responsibility, and I wouldn't be disobeying Antoinette's wishes. Little Giry would be better off a duchess than spending her whole life unhappy in this damp cave as a Mademoiselle." Seconds ticked by, and I realised I was talking with myself, not really to anyone. I scowled at the emptiness.

I decided that all this confusion could be dealt with later, and that sleep was the best option. All this thought tired me endlessly, and I followed Meg's lead, climbing into bed and waiting for what should happen the next day. Just as I was about to fall into unconsciousness, I heard the voice whisper, _You and the most gorgeous dancer? It would never work. _

But for once, I didn't argue back with the voice, because I knew it was right.

**_

* * *

_**

**_Yeah, it's a little angsty "WOE-IS-MEEE" towards the end, but whatever. I think the story's okay, and that's all that matters! :)Hope to hear from all you guys soon!_**

**_Best wishes, _**

**_Aktress._**


End file.
